


Strappado

by R_Gunns



Series: Strappado; Strappare [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Animal Abuse, Bugs & Insects, Dark, Gen, HYDRA Trash Party, Hallucinations, Humiliation, M/M, Psychological Torture, Sensory Deprivation, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Torture, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2456126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Gunns/pseuds/R_Gunns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You aren't there.</i><br/><i>This isn't happening.</i><br/><i>It isn't your body.</i> </p><p>It isn't you, balanced on cramping toes, hanging from cuffs that cut into your wrists, cause the drip, drip, drip, of blood onto your eyebrow (trickles into your eye, down your cheek).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strappado

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear. Please mind the tags (and I'm sorry Steve!) --Note that there's a reference to animal abuse but it doesn't actually happen. This was for a trash prompt that wanted to see Steve breaking.

_You aren't there._  
  
_This isn't happening._  
  
_It isn't your body._  
  
It isn't you, with blood and shit and come dried on the inside of your thighs. It isn't you, balanced on cramping toes, hanging from cuffs that cut into your wrists, cause the _drip, drip, drip,_ of blood onto your eyebrow (trickles into your eye, down your cheek).  
  
Not you who whimpers when someone...who? You can't see, can't tell who. (Does it matter?)  
  
...when someone presses fingers inside your abdomen ( _ **inside**_. Inside the ragged hole someone has carved there) and twists and spreads and minutes later replaces with something bigger (you know what it is but you can't think it can't think) and thrusts and fucks and says something and  
  
you can't hear him say "Think this is finally it boys."  
  
you can't hear him say "Captain America finally broken."  
  
you can't hear "Look, he's crying," _you cant_ , "Someone take the baton out of his ass I can't tell whether it's the shocks that are making him shake," _**you--**_  
  
" _Please_."

 

-

  
  
It hadn't started off like that. The men had been cocky, sure that a good fucking would reduce you to a whimpering child, but they underestimate your ability to remove yourself from a situation. They fuck you bloody, take turns on their own and together, grip your hips till your skin bruises, fuck your mouth till your lips split (fuck it more till you break the gag, permanently disfigure a man, then they slam your head against concrete until you pass out and don't touch it again). That was the first day.  
  
They are soldiers ('good' soldiers, who follow orders), so they lack imagination. They fuck you some more, talk about pretty lips and lashes that deserve come and only even think to piss on you (in you) once a fortnight passes. Someone grunts "How do you like that? Feeling a little more talkative?" and you grin and spit and tell him to go fuck himself.  
  
More weeks pass and they decide to cuff you, hanging from the ceiling with dislocated shoulders. _Ease of access_ , someone says. They fuck you with everything they can think of (stun batons, guns, knives, a hose) but get tired after a month or so when you still aren't breaking.  
  
(They tried threatening your friends of course. Tried to use Bucky on you, innocent civilians, the promise of freedom. But you can tell a lie when you hear it, and so you ignore them)  
  
Except.  
  
  
Except the room they keep you in is cold and wet, and it is dark. Not dark but devoid of light, there is _nothing_. At first you think it's the room, but after a while you realize they must have blinded you at some point. (Surely you would have noticed?)  
  
So you cannot see. When the men are not with you, (you count time sometimes, find they often leave you for days) there is no sound but for the steady drip of water (blood, urine). They feed you bread (water, come _"It's the only drink you're getting today, that or nothing."_ ) and you can last a long time without proper food but.  
  
But eventually your body does catch up with you. And you begin, finally, to starve.  
  
And with that comes hallucinations. It's hard, when what is happening to you is a nightmare itself, to tell what is real and what isn't. For example: When Bucky strokes fingers down your cheek, weeping softly, and asks, "What did they do to you Stevie?" That is not real. When Natasha says, "Steve, please." That is not real. When Sam says, "What do we do? I don't know what to do." That is not real.  
  
But when someone tips bugs down your throat, lets them crawl and dig and nest, that could be real. When someone tears open your skin to huddle inside, that's probably real.  
  
_The fingers inside your guts are real, and the screaming child is real and the worms inside your brain are real and the snap of sharp teeth at your neck is real--_  
  
  
  
There's a dog whimpering, you think. The child stopped screaming but there's a dog whimpering and keening. It sounds badly hurt. You think it might die, the dog might die and you should probably help the dog. It could have worms that are eating it from the inside, or bugs laying eggs, or wounds torn open by curious fingers and you think _poor dog. Someone should help that dog._


End file.
